


The One With the Bagel Slicer

by thebright1



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Bad Sex, Bad for Crowley, Bestiality, Bondage, Coprophilia, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Demon Sex, Funny, Human Sexual Punishments, Kinky, Kissing, M/M, Monkeys, Oblivious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Sadism, Scat, Scatophilia, Soft Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:22:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23826781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebright1/pseuds/thebright1
Summary: That one with the bagel slicer.ORAziraphale got kinky, and Crowley didn't like it.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 46
Collections: Name That Author Round One





	The One With the Bagel Slicer

**Author's Note:**

> The challenge was: 500 words, SFW, "let's try to guess each other's styles based on a ficlet", prompt of "Six weeks after the world doesn't end, Aziraphale shows up at Crowley's door holding a book."
> 
> The author: didn't pay attention to the word count, forgot about that SFW thing and purposefully wrote something that was a bit not zir style. Then went to submit and said 'oh, shit!', and started trying to fix everything except the last part. 
> 
> So if you read the 497 word original . . . this is the 1500 word version it came from. I think it still counts as Teen because they don't actually have any sex, they just discuss sex. I'm rating it M anyway.
> 
> Also . . . . it's a bit much. I'm sorry.

Six weeks after the world doesn't end, Aziraphale shows up at Crowley's door holding a book. He smiles nervously when Crowley opens the door, a blank expression on his face. 

“It’s 5:30 am.”

“Oh!” Aziraphale says, surprised. “I suppose I hadn’t really looked at the time. Only I was just so excited-“ He stops when he sees the irritated look on Crowley’s face, and takes in Crowley’s form, clothed only in a pair of black pants. “I’m so sorry, dear boy, were you sleeping?”

“Yeah,” Crowley says, his voice brittle. He doesn’t say that he had been planning to sleep for another six months, or possibly six years, or maybe even six decades. Whatever it would take to get him past the ache of yearning in his heart. Maybe in six centuries he could look at his best friend and _not_ think about how warped and twisted his sense of pleasure was, and how they would never have the kind of sex that Crowley had been dreaming about for six millenia. 

“I _am_ sorry.” 

Crowley bites his lower lip, considering. He glances down, sees the book in Aziraphale’s hands and his face goes slack. “Oh, no,” he says, lifting his hand up to close the door. “Angel, I love you, you are my very best friend on this rock, but I am _absolutely_ not having sex with you again.”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale says, putting a hand out. “I told you, we don’t ever have to do it again.”

“Yeah, and now you’ve shown up on my doorstep six weeks after I told you no, holding a copy of _that._ The last time was terrible-"

“I agree,” Aziraphale says at once. “That’s why I brought this book.”

Crowley sighs, runs a hand over his face. “We are not having sex.”

“No,” Aziraphale agrees. “You made that quite clear. I’m not here to seduce you. I messed things up rather badly-“

Crowley snorts. “Quite the fucking understatement!”

“-and I just want to explain myself to you.” Aziraphale ‘s voice breaks. Crowley melts a fraction. “Please.”

“All right,” Crowley says gruffly. He holds the door wide open, gestures for Aziraphale to come inside. “I see you didn’t bring any of your _equipment_ with you.”

Aziraphale huffs. “I don’t think I’ll be needing any of that-"

“You’re damn right,” Crowley says, slamming the door behind him. 

Aziraphale holds out the book. “Crowley, first I want to apologize for . . . Everything that happened.”

“You mean how you told me you loved me and wanted to make love to me and then after we were undressed and just as things were getting really terrific, you said ‘oh, I forgot the rest’ and then snapped your fingers and a monkey wearing an angel costume came in to handcuff me to the bed and show me your _toys?_ ”

“Well-“

“Or when you read me passages from the Marquis de Sade and asked if I wanted you or the monkey to defecate on me?”

“It seemed-”

“Or when you told me I was a ‘naughty little demon’ and that you were going to spank the evil out of me with one of the those medieval torture devices in your _collection_? I believe you were specifically referring to the horsewhip lined with barbed wire.”

“I didn’t actually spank you-“

“No, because I said I had enough and I was going home and going to bed, and then you started telling me that you hadn’t gotten to the good part yet, and you showed me your penis guillotine.”

“It was a bagel slicer, but-”

“You wanted me to put my prick in a bagel slicer and let you chop it off!”

“Oh do be quiet and just let me explain!”

“Or what? Did you bring a gorilla dressed as a demon this time? Is he going to use a sushi knife to carve off my nipples and cook them in an air fryer and eat them while you toss one off to it?”

“Or I’ll never talk to you again!” Aziraphale says, feeling a bit triumphant and self satisfied. 

Crowley sneers. “You couldn’t stop talking to me if you tried!”

All the air goes out of Aziraphale at once. His shoulders sag, he hangs his head. “You’re right,” he says simply. “I can’t, and that’s why I am here. I want to talk to you— really talk, just talk, and explain. . . Everything. Can you listen? Please, my dear? Please?”

Crowley takes a slow, deep breath, considering. Then he nods tightly and crosses his arms over his chest. “All right.”

“I had been thinking about sex since the night before our trials . . . when you kissed me and we switched bodies for the first time. You are awfully good at kissing.” Aziraphale’s voice has a bit of a dreamy quality to it that makes Crowley feel a bit prideful and dreamy himself. He remembers the sweet look in Aziraphale’s eyes, the feel of the angel’s mouth beneath his. Then he remembers the bagel slicer and scowls. Nice soft, sensual kisses and Aziraphale would rather . . . he shudders. 

“Look, the fact of the matter is I’d never had sex before the night you and I… well, I guess you can say I’ve still never had sex, now that I think about it. I honestly hadn’t thought about it, not really considered all the _specifics_ until I was leaving Hell. I was putting my- your- clothes back on and thinking about how good it would be to see you, and how much I liked your body, and it just hit me that I’ve loved you for centuries, I’ve been _in love with you_ for decades, but we had never _made love_ to use the human expression and I thought what a wonderful way to celebrate our escape and to show you how much I care.” Crowley snorts, but Aziraphale is on a roll now. “And I was thinking about all of that and realizing that I had only a vague idea of how it all works, and then I started to think that sex with you would be different than sex with a human, because you are a demon, and how could I find out what kind of sex a demon has? And at that point, I realized I was lost in the Lust circle of Hell. Since I was there, I thought it would be good to just take a look around . . . that I could probably find some good ideas about what you would like while I figured out where I was and how to get home.”

Crowley gapes. He wants to bang his head against a wall. “Aziraphale. . . For Somebody’s sake. . . Are you a complete idiot?”

Aziraphale presses his lips together tightly and swallows. “I rather think I am.” He holds up the copy of _The Joy of Sex_ to Crowley. “I think that. . . _This_ is probably more of what you had in mind?”

Crowley sighs deeply. “You are so clever, and yet . . . “

“I was very hurt when you left in the middle of things,” Aziraphale says quietly. “It only occurred to me about three weeks ago that what I had seen in Hell were probably sexual punishments being dealt out, not a demon’s sexual desires.”

“And for the last six weeks? You’ve been-“

“Reading,” Aziraphale says. “And thinking, and trying to figure out how I could apologize, and regain your trust.”

Crowley takes the book and tosses it aside. Aziraphale has a moment to feel indescribable despair before Crowley pulls him into his arms. “I love you and we are going to spend the rest of our lives with each other. So you will have a long time to make this up to me.” 

Crowley leans down and kisses him softly, and Aziraphale’s hands are rifling through his hair and it is _wonderful_ and _dreamy_ and all those other things he imagined it would be . . . Which is why he breaks the kiss immediately when he feels a small tug on his pants. He looks down to see the same monkey, dressed up as an angel. It smiles a big toothy monkey smile at him. 

“Aziraphale-“

Aziraphale looks stern. “Herbert, I told you to stay home!” He snaps his fingers and sends Herbert back to the upstairs flat above the bookshop. He looks at Crowley with worried eyes. “I’ve been looking all over for an organ grinder who will take him, my dear, but there just simply aren’t many of them about, and I keep throwing away the angel costume, but he rather likes it, and he cried the last time-”

“Aziraphale.“

“Yes, my dear?”

“Shut up and kiss me you fool.”

  
-FIN-  
  



End file.
